Nina Hartley
Wickedgirl.com Scene 5
Nina Hartley is pure trouble in the best way. Slip one of her scenes on and you're getting one hell of a package deal: brains that flirt as hard as the body. Don't pretend you're watching for the lecture, though. The woman's ass could start a cult. Tight waist up top, round, heavy cheeks down below; it moves like it knows exactly how much trouble it is about to cause. Think your attention span stands a chance? Think again. She bailed on nursing back in the '80s the minute she realized she'd rather moan on camera than clock in another shift. Since that first take in '84, Nina has rolled through more titles than most have on their shelf, packed the Hall of Fame with her legacy, and lined a shelf with eight AVN statues like ordinary people collect baseball cards. You might remember her from Boogie Nights without even trying; she slid into that movie like she already owned the frame. When the lights go red she plays both sides of the field, man or woman, no hesitation, every time. The camera loves her for it; viewers stick around for the tricks she pulled from thirty-plus years of road-testing every fantasy you ever scribbled in a notebook. Off-set she's just as free; three husbands, plenty of girlfriends, living loud and poly without apology. Hit play and the real trick is figuring out whether you're jerking off or taking notes.
Nina Hartley is pure trouble in the best way. Slip one of her scenes on and you're getting one hell of a package deal: brains that flirt as hard as the body. Don't pretend you're watching for the lecture, though. The woman's ass could start a cult. Tight waist up top, round, heavy cheeks down below; it moves like it knows exactly how much trouble it is about to cause. Think your attention span stands a chance? Think again. She bailed on nursing back in the '80s the minute she realized she'd rather moan on camera than clock in another shift. Since that first take in '84, Nina has rolled through more titles than most have on their shelf, packed the Hall of Fame with her legacy, and lined a shelf with eight AVN statues like ordinary people collect baseball cards. You might remember her from Boogie Nights without even trying; she slid into that movie like she already owned the frame. When the lights go red she plays both sides of the field, man or woman, no hesitation, every time. The camera loves her for it; viewers stick around for the tricks she pulled from thirty-plus years of road-testing every fantasy you ever scribbled in a notebook. Off-set she's just as free; three husbands, plenty of girlfriends, living loud and poly without apology. Hit play and the real trick is figuring out whether you're jerking off or taking notes.